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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25421599">Stonewall Will Not Fall</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/unlikelyalpacashark/pseuds/unlikelyalpacashark'>unlikelyalpacashark</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Derogatory Language, Gen, Homophobic Language, Period-Typical Homophobia, like 1 f-bomb, that's why it's teen rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:13:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,120</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25421599</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/unlikelyalpacashark/pseuds/unlikelyalpacashark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Enough was enough. That night was the breaking point. That night we stood up and we fought for ourselves. We fought against our oppression, the years we spent suffering. But it wasn’t just for us; it was for any queer kid out there who was fed the lies that a part of them was dirty or wrong or sinful.</p><p>---</p><p>A short story from the perspective of a queer woman during the beginning of the Stonewall Riots.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Stonewall Will Not Fall</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Obligatory "this is the first time I'm posting something" blah blah blah.</p><p>So I'm in a whole bunch of fandoms and I have a bunch of works in progress that just need to be finished before I can upload them, but be ready for those I guess :D</p><p>I wrote this piece for an English assessment and I was super glad with how it turned out so I thought I may as well share it with the world.</p><p>Let me know what y'all think!</p><p>(rated teen and up because it swears like once)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Enough was enough. That night was the breaking point. That night we stood up and we fought for ourselves. We fought against our oppression, the years we spent <em>suffering</em>. But it wasn’t <em>just</em> for us; it was for any queer kid out there who was fed the lies that a part of them was <em>dirty</em> or <em>wrong</em> or <em>sinful</em>.</p><p> </p><p>I don’t understand how something that feels <em>so right</em> could ever be wrong.</p><p> </p><p>There’s something about the way a girl laughs that makes me want to just reach out and tuck her hair behind her ear. Maybe press a chaste kiss to her forehead. Or even take her hand in mine, our fingers entwined as we watch the stars dance above us.</p><p> </p><p>If I was a guy there’d be no problem. But I’m not.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t fair, growing up and being made to feel like it’s wrong, like I was the only one like this. I know now that I’m not. Bars and clubs like The Stonewall Inn had always been there, a place where people like me can exist in peace. I always saw it as a sanctuary that smelled of cheap alcohol and a hundred people’s body heat. A place to call home when all I had was the streets of New York City.</p><p> </p><p>We all knew that the Genovese crime family ran the joint, happy to blur the lines of the law to make a little green, no problem with sending bribes to Precinct Six to have them turn a blind eye. Word had it that sometimes the pigs will call ahead and let the owners know a raid’ll be happening, give ‘em a chance to hide the booze, only wanting to catch us gays and dykes.</p><p> </p><p>It was the early hours of a Friday night, technically Saturday, but who was counting. It was unseasonably hot for late June, but we didn’t care too much. It was peaceful for the most part, about as serene as you can get with 100+ drunk people, all trying to be heard over one another as the music plays and the throng of the crowd, up and moving as if in a trance. The drag nights were spectacular, seeing the queens in their stunning outfits, prancing about like some sort of bird-like mating dance. But that night began as fairly easy-going, definitely after earlier that week.</p><p> </p><p>I’d been there for Tuesday’s raid, which a few of the newbies got caught for. You live and you learn. After my couple of years in the big city, I got to know the alleys and backroads so the coppers hardly ever got their grubby mitts on me. You get desensitised to the door kicked in, a collective inhale of the crowd, a uniformed figure booming “You’re all under arrest for illegal and disorderly assembly” or something of the sort. Followed then by the hoard of blue as they grab and swing and punch wherever they can hit. It’s rough, but after being victim to it for most your life, unfortunately, you begin to accept and expect it.</p><p> </p><p>That night, however, was a little different.</p><p> </p><p>Not a uniform in sight, just a few strangers who I certainly hadn’t seen round these parts. Give ‘em the benefit of the doubt, maybe a group of outta-towners who didn’t know their way around. What really caught my eye was the way they stood, shoulders back, knees wide, eyes shifting to take it all in at once. Too jumpy and on guard to be here if they knew that Stonewall was our safe haven. My eyes soaked in the scene, making contact with a blonde in a pretty summer dress, her curly hair in a braid draped over her shoulder. She returned my gaze and for a moment something that echoed disgust crept onto her face. I thought nothing of it, and continued about my business, enjoying my night out.</p><p> </p><p>It didn’t last long. Blondie and her amigos started roughing people up. First picking on the bar staff about bootlegged alcohol and then interrupting the drag show and arresting people left, right and centre. Masquerading, they called it, prancing about dressed as the other gender. Female officers were allowed to take you to the bathroom and pants you to check what you had between your legs. Being treated this way, humiliated and dehumanised. If you refused, or were proven to be cross-dressing, off in the paddy wagon you went, down to the station.</p><p> </p><p>Sirens blared, getting closer and closer. Three, maybe four patrol cars by the sheer volume alone. The uniforms elbowed their way inside, roughing us up and throwing us out onto the street. It was a lot of bodies and heat, local residents drawn by the chaos and mayhem. The air was stagnant, something brewing. Eventually the police van arrived, kicking up the dust, and began to load us in like cattle. So many people arrested would mean multiple trips of the van.</p><p> </p><p>Just in front of me I heard a shriek, looking up to see a woman wearing men’s clothes doubled over, hands gripping the base of her skull. The police officer had her cuffed and his baton raised. He forced her into the van that surely was at capacity and she wailed “Please! Stop, my cuffs are too tight! Please it hurts, it <em>hurts.</em>” her voice broke into a sob.</p><p> </p><p>I felt my mouth drop and twisted in pain and disgust. The words came out at the top of my lungs before my brain even registered, “We have to do something!” I twisted the half full beer bottle held in my fingers and glanced around, watching the energy build in the crowd. <em>Someone cast the first stone.</em> I drew back my arm and summoned everything in me. “Fucking pigs!” and ditched the bottle at the side of the van, narrowly missing the boy in blue.</p><p> </p><p>The crowd roared and soon there were objects sailing through the air. In the mania, I ditched the scene to watch from a safer distance. Down the street I dodged airborne coins and rocks and even the odd shoe. The cries of the crowd were muffled yet just as powerful as I moved further away. A few streets later, I scaled a fire escape, muscle memory taking control as I made my way to the roof. I watched from above as the riot fully ensued, hundreds upon hundreds of people pushing and shoving and throwing.</p><p> </p><p>I sat as it all went up, showing no signs of slowing down soon. There was a single thought that bounced around inside my head.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>This is the beginning of something bigger.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>This is going to make a change.</em>
</p><p>We <em>are going to make a change.</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading pal! I hope you enjoyed it.</p><p>I can be found at unlikelyalpacashark on Tumblr, so feel free to throw me a follow.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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